Berlin
by Cello Case
Summary: SLASH. Desperate for a job in Berlin, 1931, Squall takes up a job mixing drink for a cabaret. Then he meets one of the dancers, and fights as to whether or not love is an option.


berlin Hi there. This contains HOMO elements, men in love with men, and I think that, when the   
participants are TRULY in LOVE, there is nothing more beautiful. Hetros, yucky! Hehe, okay, I'm sorry. So   
basically if it's illegal for you to be reading this *cough*don'tgetcaught*cough*. That rule is doubled if you are, like I   
did, growing up in a severely homophobic household. There's also a shitload of German in here, but people can usually understand from context. This takes place in Berlin, the 1930's, borrowing some characters that are property of Square. Now, enjoy!   
  


"Finally, a good-looking one. Okay, let's see what you've got."   
Squall blinked, taken aback. "Er, sorry, I don't want to be in the   
show. I just want to mix drinks."   
The man looked genuinely disappointed. "Are you sure? You've got   
a great build, nice face. I bet you'd be really popular with the guys. You   
could make a lot of money."   
Squall remembered what the men had looked like when he came   
in. They were all bruised, and wearing nothing but some thin, low-hung   
pants. "I'm quite sure. I just want to mix drinks."   
The man sighed. "Alright. Do you speak any German?"   
"Very little, but I can say small phrases like 'What drink would you   
like?' and 'How would you like that mixed?'. I know the currency too."   
"Okay. You start tonight. Welcome to the Kit Kat club."   


Squall had never been in a more obscene place in his life. The   
girls were disturbingly unashamed, and quite exhibitionists. The men   
even more so. But he was the bartender in a cabaret, no one paid   
attention to him.   
Well, that wasn't entirely true. One of the men in the show had   
come onto him backstage. Only his first night and he had already had   
an invitation to a man's bed.   
He had never really questioned his sexuality before. He's always   
just thought boys went with girls. Now, working in this cabaret, he   
realized that boys could go very well with other boys. Girls could go well   
with girls. In fact, nearly any combination was possible, including some   
that involve a goat. But Squall had never realized it. Maybe that's why   
he was called to work in the bar in this Berlin cabaret; The Kit Kat Club.   
He was definately toying with the idea of homosexuality right now.   
As the effeminate Emcee came on the stage, Squall had to look up.   
Something about the excitement in his German accent...   
"Meine Daman und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and   
Gentlemen! Ze Keet Kat Club eez PROUD to present, a simply   
MARvelous member of ze muchloved Keet Kat Boys, I give you!, and   
don't forget to bring him back when you're done vith him!, Herr Harvey   
Rosbaum!"   
Squall felt like his jaw would drop. The single most beautiful   
being he had ever seen pranced onto the stage. A young man dressed in   
leather, draping a feather boa around his body, accompanied with a   
burly man on each arm, stepped lightly, a look of pure seduction on his   
face, his shoulder-length blonde hair falling in delicate waves at the   
ends. His eyes were too far away for Squall to tell the color, but they   
had a sense of mastery in them, like he knew he had captured at the   
very least one heart by simply standing on that stage. And then...he   
began to dance.   
Squall was hypnotized. Every movement he made was fluidly   
perfect, every simple step magnificent. Squall immediately wished he   
had signed up to be a dancer, just so he could take the place of one of   
those burly men up there, putting their hands on his body.   
//Good god,// Squall thought, //if I have to be gay to like him,   
somebody sign me up...//   
And then, back to the audience, the dancer flipped his hair,   
looked Squall straight in the eye, and winked.   
Squall had never felt such a longing in his life. 

Another act over. When all the girls had cleared from the stage,   
people moved towards the bar to refill their glasses. Squall had never   
known to go through so many bottles of gin, which seemed to be the   
drink of choice tonight.   
Squall had learned the routine; spend ten minutes emptying gin   
bottles, mix occasionally, then wait for the Emcee to get back on the   
stage. It was an easy job.   
People were starting to thin, and once the Master of Ceremonies   
had resumed his place, all were back to ther seatings. Squall bent   
beneath the bar to see if there were anymore full bottles, and when he   
arose, who should be leaning on the bar but the dancing Kit Kat Boy.   
"Hi," the dancer said, smiling that seductive smile. His eyes were   
a gray-blue, and with the coat of mascara he had covering his   
eye-lashes, they looked like they belonged to a cat.   
"H-hi," Squall said, clutching his achohol, "Uhm, Harvey, right?"   
The dancer laughed. "No, Harvey is just a stage name. My real   
name's Zell. Zell Dincht. Quite unGeman, don't you agree?" He extended   
his hand.   
"I'm Squall," he shook Zell's hand.   
"Squall," Zell repeated, "my, that's a beautiful and intruiging   
name. Has Bobby already claimed you?"   
"Who?" Squall said, wishing desperately he could think of   
something more interesting to say.   
"Bobby, another Kit Kat Boy. The most popular, I daresay. He said   
he was going to 'try' you."   
"Oh, him," Squall said, remembering the man, "Well, he flirted   
with me backstage, but I had to get out here."   
Zell laughed. He had a very charming laugh. A little feminine, but   
it just seemed so genuine. "Yes, Bobby is a little slut sometimes, but   
he's got a heart of...well, he's got a heart." He paused, and then, "Do you   
dance?"   
This took Squall totally by suprise. "What?! Um, no, I-I don't..."   
"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to sound forward, it's just...there's a   
waltz coming up, and I need a partner."   
"Won't people think it's wierd? You know, a Kit Kat Boy dancing   
with a male bartender?"   
To answer this, Zell simply looked over his shoulder at a male   
couple. They looked like they were practically having sex over in the   
corner. He looked back at Squall with a cool smile on his face.   
"I guess not," Squall said sheepishly, "I'm sorry, but I really don't   
know how..."   
"Perfect!" Zell exclaimed, his eyes very bright. He grabbed Squall   
by both his hands and drug him from behind the bar to the main floor.   
He then turned to Squall, grinning. "I just love teaching men how to   
waltz!"   
"I'm kinda clumsy..."   
Zell smiled slyly. "Then I'll just have to hold you extra-close."   
Before this thought could register in Squall's already   
overwhelmed mind, Zell was wisking him to the tune of the music. "I   
love this song. My dear Fritzie, one of the Kit Kat girls you know, she   
sings this song so beautifully. She could seduce any man with it; how I   
envy her."   
"Wha--?"   
"You are actually doing quite well for someone who 'does not   
dance'," Zell chuckled, "But I'm going to spit out orders anyway. Just   
listen to the beat of the music. Yes, ONE two three ONE two three ONE   
two three, yes, and match that very beat with each step. Yes, you are   
doing perfect!" Zell moved a little closer to Squall, while still   
maintaining the proper waltzing stance. Squall could hear him sing the   
unsung lyrics to the song under his breath. "...somewhere a glory awaits,   
unseen, tomorrow belongs to me..."   
Squall had never been much for dancing. In fact, he'd always kind   
of hated it. But something about dancing here with Zell...Maybe it was   
the club, so filthy and lurid it was warm and welcoming. Maybe it was   
that they both knew no one would look at them and gasp in fear,   
"Homosexuals!" Or maybe it was simply Zell, leading him like a perfect   
teacher, and yet laughing with Squall. Something, it didn't really matter   
what, made dancing with Zell...special.   
Squall didn't want the song to end. He wanted to continue   
dancing with Zell. He wanted to keep talking with him. He had never felt   
a bond so strong so fast with anyone like he did with this dancer. But   
the final note chimed, and everyone let go of their partners to clap.   
But Zell didn't. Zell stopped dancing, but still held Squall. He had   
a very soft look on his face. And then, without warning, Squall found his   
mouth being seized by the most beautiful Kit Kat boy.   
As suddenly as he had grabbed them, Zell released Squall's lips.   
Squall had no idea how to respond. He liked the kiss very much, that   
was beginning to crystalize in his mind, and he knew all the Kit Kat boys   
swung very much towards men, that was clear. But he just stood there,   
his mouth open, feeling like a fool as he groped his mind for words.   
Zell's face dropped. His eyes began burning. He looked as though   
he had just been told everyone he knew died. He croaked in a whisper, "I   
understand." And before Squall could say anything, he rushed   
backstage, pushing people out of his way as he walked.   
"Zell! Wait, please!" Squall tried desperately to call out, but he   
could only squeak. 

The Emcee strutted into the men's dressing room backstage,   
flipping his leather trenchcoat over his shoulder and taking the silver   
barrette from his slate black hair. The only one in the room was the   
youngest of the Kit Kat boys, Zell Dincht. "Guten Abtend, Herr Dincht!   
Wie geht's? You gaffe a simply vunderful performance tonight!"   
Zell smiled weakly at his addresser. "You are too kind, sir."   
The Emcee smiled slyly and said in a lower voice, "Und I saw from   
zee stage vhile zee orchestra vas playing 'Tomorrow Belonks To Me'.   
You zeemed to be getting along fabulously vith Herr Leon'art. He is very   
good waltzer, ja?"   
To the Emcee's suprise, Zell burst into tears. He cradled his head   
in his hands, positively sobbing with misery. "Herr Dincht!" the Emcee   
exclaimed, rushing to Zell's side and putting his arm around him, "Mein   
Liebing, vat iz ze matter?!"   
Normally, if the Emcee had put his arm around him, or touched   
him in any way for that matter, Zell would have been quite nervous. He   
knew that the Emcee had slept with almost all of the men in the clubs   
ensamble. Zell was the exception. But right now, Zell craved comfort.   
He wouldn't have even minded if the Emcee kissed him...so long as he   
didn't expect it to lead to anything else.   
"Herr Squall and I, ja, we danced, and I was so comfortable with   
him. He was a perfect dancer, and I'm sure you've noticed he is VERY   
good-looking..."   
"Ja, Herr Leon'art ez quite 'andsome, but now zat I know you haff   
claimed him, I promiss I vill not, err, persue him."   
Zell smiled up at the Emcee. "That is kind of you, but you don't   
have to worry about that. Go ahead and try at him...he doesn't like me   
like that, or at all, anymore."   
"Ach, mein Liebling, zat cannot be true! You are most kind younc   
man, you are brilliant dancer, und - I hope you don't mind me zaying   
ziss, you are quite beautiful, ja?"   
Zell sighed, "Thank you, but Herr Leonhart does not think so..."   
"How do you know?"   
"After the song finished...I kissed him."   
The Emcee gasped. It was almost endearing, this man who   
wallowed in smoldering sexuality, who nightly simulated sex on stage   
with at least one man, gasping at one little kiss. "Mein Liebling! Wie   
sus!"   
"Not really, actually...he didn't react well..."   
The Emcee held Zell tighter with both his arms now, and let him   
sob freely. He was very tempted to take advantage of the moment and   
plant a kiss on this Kit Kat boy, the only one he hadn't seduced yet, but   
decided to show some restaint and not.   
"I do know how you feel, Herr Dincht. All you are asking is eine   
bisschen Verstandnis..."   
"...a little understanding," Zell translated to himself.   
The Emcee sighed, an almost wistful look on his face. "Ahh, mein   
susser junger Mann..." 

Squall felt horrible. The incident last night stood out so vividly in   
his mind, like a horrible scab that is severely sensative, so that   
whenever it is touched ever so lightly, it throbs in pain and bleeds.   
The Kit Kat regulars last night had been most impressed with the   
new young man who mixed their gin perfectly. He always smiled and   
was very polite, he spoke in perfect, complete German sentences. Of   
course, they didn't know the only reason he spoke in perfect, complete   
German sentences was because that was all he knew, but that wouldn't   
have mattered anyway.   
Now as they approached the bar, they saw a different young man.   
He wouldn't look them in the eyes. He didn't smile. Mind you, he still   
mixed their gin perfectly, but somehow, it just didn't taste as sweet.   
"Was wurden sie mogen trinken," he said dully as another person   
approached mid-act.   
"Look up, Herr Leon'art."   
Squall eyes widened before he had even jolted his eyes up. He   
knew that voice.   
"M-master-of-Ceremonies! Erm, uh, Was wurden see - no, sie   
mogen trin--"   
The Emcee clapped his hands twice directly in front of Squall face   
to hush him up. Then he sighed sharply and said, "You, Herr Leon'art,   
haff hurt mein kostbarer Diamant."   
Squall had absolutely no idea what that term meant, but he   
immediately knew who he must mean. "You mean Zell...er, Harv-- Herr   
Rostbaum?"   
"You haff hurt Herr Dincht very much! I haff pervect rees-zon to   
fi-yerr you right here!!" the Emcee said. Squall flinched, and he added,   
"But I von't because Zell becked me not to...but I fond him cryinc! I fond   
him all alone in zee dressing room, cryinc! Ant do you know how hard   
eet ez for me to find heem cryinc ant not take advantage of him? Not to   
se-duce heem!?"   
"Er..."   
"Off courz you vouldn't! You don't effen like him!"   
"For your information, I'm crazy about him!" Squall blurted out.   
"Zen vhy deed you 'react bat-ly' vhen he kissed you!"   
A few people were starting to stare. Even a few who spoke   
absolutely no English.   
"Because he caught me by suprise! I didn't know what to say! It   
was the first time I'd ever been kissed like that! How am I suppose to   
react?!"   
"You could haff at least said somezing! Instead, you subjected me   
to ze torture of comforting ze only Keet Kat boy I haven't slept wit   
wizout even ger-roping heem! I couldn't even brinc myself to kiss him,   
dammeet, I felt so bad for him!"   
By now, the girls had stopped their act, and nearly everyone in   
the club was watching, enthralled   
"I'm glad you didn't seduce him!"   
"Ach? And vhy iz ZAT?!"   
"BECAUSE MAYBE I WANNA SEDUCE HIM, HUH?! MAYBE THIS   
PLACE HAS GONE TO MY HEAD!! MAYBE I'M GOING INSANE THINKING   
I MAY HAVE HURT HIM!!"   
"Ahem."   
Both Squall and the Emcee stopped. Zell, draped in his feather   
boa, stood meekly a few feet away from the squabble.   
They stood there in silence. Then the Emcee walked away quietly.   
"Um..so..." Zell said almost inaudibly.   
"Please say you didn't hear..." Squall said, his eyes concentrated   
on the floor like he was fascinated by it.   
"...Yes, I did." Zell walked toward Squall, the higher heels of his   
boots click-click-clicking on the tiled floor.   
Squall buried his hand in his face. "Oh god..."   
"I...I guess I shouldn't have assumed you would have liked the   
kiss. I just...had to do it," Zell said, looking at the floor, "Every morning I   
wake up and know that the man from last night doesn't remember, and   
usually won't until he looks in his wallet and realizes he left me   
money..."   
Squall looked up at this. "You mean you're a...?"   
"No, no," Zell said quickly, still looking at the floor, a single   
crystaline tear dropping into a momentarily perfect bead as he   
continued, "But sometime's that's all they take me for."   
Like Zell's heart had done the nights before, the perfect bead   
crashed into the floor, splitting into a thousand tiny incriments, never   
to be remembered again.   
Squall summoned all his courage and said, "I promise...I'll never   
think of you as that."   
Zell looked up, his eyes very red, and mustered up a very weak   
smile before another small sob escaped his crimson painted lips.   
On the Emcee's command, the girls began their act again.   
Everyone, guessing the action was over, went back to their gin.   
Squall came from behind the bar and tried to put his arm around   
Zell.   
Zell pulled away. "Don't do that. Not simply for my sa--"   
Squall grabbed Zell before he could finish and held him so tightly   
that it seemed like he thought if he let go, he may never see him again.   
Zell was not used to such forcefulness. He was one of the better   
built of the Kit Kat boys, very strong and quite toned. One of the   
reasons many men watched, but didn't dare try to push him into sex.   
But Squall held him tightly in his normally lithe arms, his lower face   
pressed deeply into Zell's bared shoulder.   
"Zell...I want to be closer to you."   
Zell chuckled lightly. "I don't think you can get much closer than   
this..."   
"You know what I mean."   
Neither even looked up as the Emcee spoke. "Und now zee Keet   
Kat lady, Frauline 'Fritzie' Kost!"   
A woman in a black corsette much like Zell's, some garters   
holding up some ripped fishnet stockings, stepped onto the stage in a   
bright spotlight, opened her full red lips and sang out, "The sun in the   
meadow is summery warm/ the stag in the forest runs free / but gather   
together to greet the storm.../ tomorrow belongs to me..."   
Squall clung to Zell, listening silently to what he hoped forever would   
be 'their song'. 


End file.
